


The Not So Pathetic Life of Howard J. Wolowitz

by WhimsicalSesquipedalian



Category: Stargate Atlantis, The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: Companionable Snark, Crossover, First Meetings, I Weirdly Ship It Now, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Meet-Cute of sorts, One Shot, Sassy, Snark, Time For Bed Now, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 00:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14863082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalSesquipedalian/pseuds/WhimsicalSesquipedalian
Summary: Howard Wolowitz was having a perfectly normal night until an US Air-force colonel and a grumpy looking man in a business suit knocked on his door. Colonel John Sheppard and Dr. Rodney McKay weren't sure what they were expecting when they knocked on the door of their newest recruit, but it certainly wasn't a skinny man in a turtleneck blatantly confessing to crimes against national security. This was going to be an interesting night for everyone.





	The Not So Pathetic Life of Howard J. Wolowitz

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this came to me a few months ago and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. I hope you all enjoy reading this weird train-wreck of a fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Howard J. Wolowitz was sitting at home playing video games. Not a particularly exciting sentence with which to start a story. A better one would be; ‘Howard Wolowitz sat astride his horse and readied his sword, today was the day he would face the Great Dragon’; or ‘Howard Wolowitz stood in the engineering bay of the Starship Enterprise, not yet aware that the fate of the entire ship rested in his hands’; or even ‘Howard Wolowitz felt the terrifying vampire turn to ash under his stake, his life had never been the same since he discovered his destiny as the Slayer.’ Well, maybe not that last one, but you get the picture. However, instead of one of these epic adventures, Howard Wolowitz sat on the floral upholstered couch in his mother’s house preparing to begin another lonely race on Mario Kart Wii.  

This entirely average picture was the same as nearly every thirteen-year-old boy across California, and so the normalcy of his current state should not have put him out as much as it did. The only problem with this theory was that Howard Wolowitz, despite his small stature, bad hair-cuts, and superhero themed belt buckles, was not in his early teens. No, Howard was a reasonably successful aerospace engineer in his mid-to-late twenties. A picture moving from the normal into the pathetic.

However, Howard Wolowitz was by no means pathetic. Well, not entirely so anyway. As he could prove by his rather reasonable lead against the NPCs on Rainbow Road in 150cc; or at least Howard thought this made him less pathetic, but he’d never been a good judge of that sort of thing. Indeed, looking back on his life, the numerous taunts and beatings he endured in high school, and that one at the bowling alley just the other week, were all heavily suggestive that Howard was a terrible judge of his own pathetic-ness.   

Howard was just beginning to worry that playing Mario Kart was in fact just a sad and lonely waste of his short existence, and had just crossed the starting line to commence his final lap when his phone began buzzing in his back pocket. Pausing the game he quickly wriggled the phone free from his extremely tight trousers and, seeing his best friend Raj’s name on the caller ID, answered, before jamming the phone between his ear and his shoulder and re-commencing the race (just because it was sad, lonely, and most probably pathetic, didn’t mean it wasn’t still fun).

“Hey, what’s up”, he said, as he rounded the first corner.

“I’m having an emotional crisis, I need you to comfort me.”

Raj’s whining tones were an obvious indication to Howard that whatever the crisis was, it wasn’t that serious.

“I’m kinda busy here Raj”, Howard replied, his voice straining as he skated the precipice rounding the third corner.

“Oh please, I highly doubt Ratchet and Clank outweighs my current emotional turmoil.”

The obvious scathing nature of Raj’s reply did nothing to aid with Howard’s non-existent sympathy, still…

“It’s Mario Kart, but good point. What’s up Raj?”

Howard heard Raj breathe deeply on the other end of the line, and braced himself for the oncoming tidal wave that was Raj’s latest tragedy.

“There’s been a shooting at the hospital, Derek’s in critical condition, and Lexi just told Alex she loves him, but we all know she’s in love with Mark, and if Alex or Derek die I really don’t know how I’m going to deal with the heartbreak.”

Howard shook his head as he expertly rounded the next corner. He might be skating close to the edge of the pathetic-ness abyss, but Raj had jumped in head-first with seemingly little regret.

“Wow, Grey’s Anatomy has really gone down-hill this season.”

He heard Raj scoff on the other end of the phone.

“You know you could at least show a little sympathy, this is a really hard time for me.”

Howard cursed as a momentary lapse of concentration caused him to careen over the edge of the course mere turns away from the finish line.

“What’s that ma? You need me to help you tie your girdle?” Howard yelled into the dead silence of the living room, “Sorry man, duty calls.”

“Howard, I know you’re just trying to avoid…”

Howard hung up the phone and let it drop to his lap as he whizzed his kart round the last two bends and down the straight to take first place. Somewhere, on the other side of the city, Raj was probably sitting looking forlornly at his phone, but Howard couldn’t bring himself to care. Friendship only went so far.

Feeling satisfied with his win, and only a tiny bit guilty for blowing off Raj, Howard settled back into the couch ready for a few more solid hours of virtual relaxation. He had decided to just embrace the pathetic-ness; this was his life now. Of course, this was exactly the moment when the doorbell rang.

“HOWARD”, his mother’s voice carried through the house with surprising strength for a woman her age, “WHO’S AT THE DOOR?”

And there was the reason Howard had never made anything more of his life, the word “co-dependency” annoyingly surfaced in the back of his mind.

“I DON’T KNOW, I HAVEN’T ANSWERED IT YET”, Howard snapped back, his voice taking on the same gravelly tone as his mothers, but Howard really didn’t want to dwell on the psychology of that right now.

“WELL TELL THEM TO GO AWAY, I JUST FINISHED MY BATH AND I’M NOT DECENT FOR COMPANY.”

Howard grated his teeth as he walked tensely over to the door, his night of sanctuary ruined.

“SAY IT LOUDER MA, I DON’T THINK THEY HEARD YOU ON SATURN… Hey, what’s up?”

Howard's tone shifted seamlessly as he opened the door, leaning as nonchalantly on the doorpost as possible, unfortunately achieving an affect closer to scoliosis than relaxation. However, worrying about his appearance was the last thing on Howard;s mind as apprehension surged through him upon seeing an officer of the United States Air-force and a condescending-looking man in a business suit standing on his doorstep.

Of course, the terrifying nature of the image was lessened slightly by the ridiculousness of the officer’s, scratch that, colonel’s haircut, his clearly non-regulation length hair cowlicking in ways Howard didn’t realise was possible under the laws of physics (Howard’s familiarity with Air-force uniforms came from completely innocent research, entirely unrelated to romantic or sexual activities).

“Howard Wolowitz?”

Now at this point in Howard’s story you may be thinking, what is so intimidating about a Colonel of the US Air-force and a man in a suit? Hardly a very dramatic tilt in the story arc. However, if you are, you are clearly unfamiliar with the human disaster that is Howard Wolowitz. Howard Wolowitz who accidentally crashed the Mars Rover to impress a girl he picked up at a bar. Howard Wolowitz who stole rocket fuel from the US government to power an experimental jet-pack that he made for a Boba Fett cosplay. Howard Wolowitz who mis-designed the excrement disposal system (the toilet, but Howard called it an excrement disposal system) on the International Space Station and thus caused what can only be described as just about the worst thing you could imagine happening in space. Howard’s inbox was still full of angry emails from the victims of his engineering flaw who had been the first to discover that the only thing worse than an overflowing sewage system is adding a zero-gravity environment.

So understandably, Howard was freaking out. And when Howard Wolowitz started to freak out, his first response, much to his own annoyance, seemed to be to admit to everything.

“Are you here about the excrement disposal system malfunction on the International Space Station? Because I talked to NASA and I really thought we’d smoothed that over.”

Howard was met with nothing but stoic silence. That, and a look of slight unease on the annoyed looking man’s face.

“Look, if it’s about the rocket fuel, it was for scientific purposes, the Boba Fett cosplay story was a practical joke, who knew the Department of Homeland Security didn’t have a sense of humour.”

The silence did not break. The only mark Howard received that the colonel had heard what he said was the slightly amused look he shot the scowling man next to him.

“No… Okay. Well if it’s about the Mars Rover, if you’d seen the girl I had with me you would’ve broken national security laws too…”

Howard’s uncomfortable laughter tapered off into the awkward silence. Not only had he spilled all his worst, and in some cases damningly illegal, mistakes, but the two men in front of him really didn’t seem to care. Was he that laughably pathetic that even the United States Air-force didn’t notice him enough to care that he’d screwed them over on multiple occasions. If he wasn’t so relieved to have avoided federal prison, Howard would be feeling pretty pissed-off.

Colonel Cowlick turned to Resting Bitch-Face with a quirked eyebrow. Yes, Howard had given them nicknames, but he was also worried, confused, and just the tiniest bit pissed-off, so it was calming to humanise the two government servants that were in all possibility still going to find an excuse to arrest him.

“You sure this is the guy?”

Resting Bitch-Face gave a long suffering sigh and eyed Howard up disapprovingly.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Howard barely had time to register the offence before Colonel Cowlick took a step forward and plastered a charming smile on his face, as if the first three minutes of their interaction had never occurred. Howard would have been annoyed, if the effect wasn’t so startling that it made Howard’s knees go weak. A fact that he would never admit to anyone under any circumstances, he already copped enough flak about his sexuality over Raj.  

“Hi, I’m Colonel John Sheppard of the United States Air-force, and this is my colleague Dr Rodney McKay. We need a few minutes of your time to discuss your possible involvement in a specialised program we’re currently recruiting for.”

The pitch was delivered with a relaxed ease that Howard hadn’t seen from any other members of the US military. But whatever drugs the colonel seemed to be sniffing, _Dr._ Resting Bitch-Face clearly wasn’t getting any. Howard eyed him warily as he stepped back and pulled open the door.

“Sure, come in.”

Colonel Cowlick (now Sheppard) and Dr Resting Bitch-Face (now McKay) made their way into the lounge room. Howard followed and was ready to put behind him the embarrassing fiasco that was their first encounter when he realised the Mario Kart screen was still up on the TV.

“Figures…”

The colonel gestured disgustedly at the TV. Howard bristled and got ready to defend himself against the ‘misinformed bully bred to despise nerd-culture by the corporate machine’ when he was cut off.

“I’m away for a few years and Nintendo choose then to release a new Mario Kart. I’ve been waiting for a decent re-release since the 64!”

Howard stood in slightly stunned silence as Dr McKay scoffed at the colonel.

“Of course you play Mario Kart…” he muttered under his breath, “You know we are actually here to do real work, not just discuss your love of juvenile gaming formats.”

Colonel Sheppard grunted in agreement and derision (a difficult balance that he pulled off with surprising ease) and cast one last longing glace at the TV screen before turning around and reclining onto the coffee table. Dr McKay rolled his eyes and primly sat on the edge of one of the arm chairs with significantly less grace than the colonel. Howard took a moment to survey the odd couple, and to wonder how the hell this was how his evening had turned out, before sitting himself on the couch and staring expectantly at Colonel Sheppard.

“So what the hell is this all about? Cause as much as I like having two government employees turn up unannounced on my doorstep at 5:00 on a Tuesday, I’m starting to freak out a bit here.”

Howard hoped the sarcasm in his statement had come across scathingly enough, but he was pretty sure his nervousness had just made him sound like a substitute teacher trying to make a joke on their first day.

“Starting!” Dr McKay muttered under his breath, earning him a dirty look from the colonel.

Howard was having a hard time telling whether Sheppard and McKay actually hated each other, or were just secretly screwing. His money was on screwing. Sheppard’s easy drawl broke him out of this contemplation.

“We’re here about a paper you wrote on the use of crystals as a possible material for complex systems programming in aerospace and astronautical engineering.”

Howard sat back on the couch and stared disbelievingly at the colonel. He didn’t know whether or not to laugh, as it was impossible to tell whether or not Sheppard was joking. But surely he had to be…

“This is a joke right…” Howard stammered, “I wrote that paper for a fan competition. I mean, the science is based on a concept from a TV show; Wormhole X-treme. A friend of mine wrote one at the same time deconstructing the physics behind the warp drive in Star Trek.”

Howard broke into an awkward laugh, but it was not reciprocated, “This is a joke; you’re screwing with me.’

Howard’s composure was lessening by the second. As the sweat threatened to escape from under his fringe and roll down his face a terrible thought struck him.

“Did Sheldon send you? ‘cause I’ll kill him.”

McKay 'tsk'-ed loudly and gave the colonel a look as if to say ‘what kind of moron have we landed ourselves with’. And at this point, Howard couldn’t really blame him. Although the response that followed was not the one Howard was expecting, in any eventuality.

“Mr Wolowitz” (Howard flinched at the usual stress placed on his lack of title) “the television show which you based your paper on was in fact a government cover-up of a real operation known as the Stargate Program. To our great surprise your work came remarkably close to detailing the actual science used by alien technology that the US Air-force has so far acquired. Therefore we are offering you a place on our engineering team, led by myself, on a mission to transport the lost city of Atlantis back to the Pegasus galaxy.”

Howard Wolowitz had heard many ridiculous things in his life. Just the other day he had heard two grown men with doctorates in physics argue over whether or not Aqua Man could communicate with aquatic mammals. Last month he had been treated to the entire history of BBQ sauce while eating out with Sheldon. In fact, his experiences with this level of ridiculousness in everyday conversation always involved one particularly annoying theoretical physicist. Which is why, when asked later about the reason for the strangeness of his reaction, he replied with only two words. Sheldon Cooper.

“Okay, very funny Sheldon, but games over!”

Sheppard and McKay exchanged confused looks as Howard jumped up and began to have, what some would call an hysterical fit, and what Howard would call a manly stress-induced breakdown.

“I know this is you Sheldon!” Howard yelled, running around the living room, up-turning various items large enough to hide a camera.

“I mean, I get it. Ha Ha, very funny, let’s all poke fun at Howard’s disaster of a career. But you’ve taken it too far this time Sheldon!”

His search for the camera he was now only 95% percent certain was hidden somewhere in the room, became more frantic. In perhaps his worst moment of poor judgement, Howard strode up to Colonel Sheppard and began to frisk his jacket, under the delusion that Sheldon’s secret camera was hidden in the lapel.

“I mean I should have known this was a set up from the start, what kind of real Air-force colonel has hair that bad.”

Howard was interrupted mid-ramble by Colonel Sheppard’s sudden arising, taking Howard firmly by the wrists and sitting him down on the couch.

“Look…”, Colonel Sheppard seemed to take a moment to process just how his evening had deteriorated to this, “Seeing as you’ve felt me up I think we can move to a first name basis. Look, Howard. I get this is a lot to take in. The first time I found out about the Stargate Program I’d just been shot down by an alien missile in the middle of the Antarctic…”

Dr McKay coughed pointedly from where he was sitting, and glared at the colonel. Now that Howard was sitting down, his head seemed to be compensating for the stillness of his body, and was reeling so rapidly that he almost didn’t catch the next part of Colonel Sheppard’s statement.

“Yeah, you’re right, let’s not get into that now…” By this point the colonel had let go of Howard's shoulders and taken a step back to assess him, biting his lip in exasperation. Howard was already missing the grounding physical contact that Colonel Cowlick had offered, yet another fact he would be keeping to himself for the sake of his highly speculated upon sexuality. He took the moment of silence to re-assess the colonel’s somehow scruffy and smooth appearance; Bi-curious was a thing, right? God, he hoped Leonard never found out about that particular reflection.

Colonel Sheppard turned to Dr McKay. “Maybe we should just show him.”

Dr McKay’s frown somehow became deeper, Howard really wasn’t sure how that was possible at this point, and the look he gave the colonel was a highly skeptical one.

“Are you sure exposure therapy is our best option right now?” He said, gesturing at Howard with derision.

Howard really couldn’t blame him, if Howard had been slightly pathetic at the start of the night, he had full experience points in it by this point of the conversation.

Colonel Sheppard shrugged nonchalantly, completely ruining the illusion of good posture the uniform had bestowed on him up until now, “He’s already catatonic, I mean, how much worse can we make it?”

Whatever Colonel Sheppard saw in Dr McKay’s face seemed to be a sufficient response, because he tapped on his ear and began a whispered conversation with someone on the other end, cluing McKay in with a series of glances. Geez, these two had really mastered married couple levels of non-verbal communication. Howard wondered if he could teach Raj to do that. That train of thought was cut mercifully short by the colonel clearing his throat pointedly.

He glanced heavily at McKay, before turning to Howard and winking. Yep, Bi-curious was definitely a thing.

“Daedalus…” He said, before breaking into a shit-eating grin, “Beam us up.”

Howard barely had time to process what the entirely un-subtle reference could possibly mean, before the world literally shifted around him, and he felt the couch fall out from under him as he hit the ground hard. However, the sudden disappearance of his seat was not on the top of the list of things currently bothering Howard Wolowitz. No, that spot was reserved for the fully manned and functioning bridge of what could only be an Enterprise-sized spaceship that had seemingly just materialised around him. Only, upon further reflection, Howard must have materialised in the spaceship, because that was definitely Earth out the window.

Now up until this point in Howard Wolowitz’s life, if you had asked him for his thoughts on spaceships, teleportation, inter-galactic space travel, or the like, the resulting conversation would have taken place entirely in the hypothetical or fictional realm. You would have been told about Star Wars, Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, Einstein’s theory of relativity and its relevance to faster than light travel, Roswell conspiracy theories, and his own engineering exploits for the International Space Station. Not once in Howard's still relatively short life had he dared to even dream that he would also need to consider the practical applications of these ideas. And yet, here he was, on the bridge of a spaceship, faced with the very un-hypothetical eventuality that all the things he once attributed to merely science fiction, were happening to him in real life. He needed a drink. Or a lobotomy. He’d decide later.

“How you feeling Dorothy?”

Howard was shaken out of his slack-jawed reverie by the colonel’s drawling voice behind him. He turned around to glance up at Colonel Sheppard and Dr McKay, both looking down at him with their arms crossed and similar amused expressions on their faces. Howard considered standing up, but he was fairly sure that he would simply fall straight back down again.

“I can see my house from here” Howard stuttered out.

Colonel Sheppard joined in with Howard’s breathy laughter, “Think this is cool? Just wait ‘til you go to your first planet.”

“So you weren’t kidding about that whole ‘other galaxy’ thing,” Howard said shaking his head, he should really stop gawking out the window sometime soon.

Dr McKay 'tsk'-ed behind him, “Why does everyone think were kidding about that?” He said as he shook his head at Colonel Sheppard.

As the reality of the situation finally began to sink in, Howard slowly and shakily began to rise to his feet. Although, when questioned about it later he would swear that he stood up suavely and casually, and he definitely didn’t nearly throw up on his own shoes. Not even close.

“So you’re telling me,” Howard said when he finally got to his feet, “that you want me to go with you, in your real-life starship, to a whole other galaxy, because of a paper I wrote as a joke three years ago!”

Dr McKay tutted, glancing at Colonel Sheppard, “He’s finally caught up.”

“Hey!” Howard squawked indignantly, “I’m just making sure you’re talking to the right guy here, I mean, I can’t be qualified for this.”

“Why do I always get stuck with the idiots?” Dr McKay flapped his hand impatiently towards Howard, while muttering to the colonel.

Colonel Sheppard shook his head in amusement, chuckling at a joke that Howard, in his state of confusion, bewilderment, befuddlement, and all the other applicable synonyms, was having a hard time understanding.

“You already have better qualifications than I did when I joined.”

“Why, what did you do to get in?”

The colonel smiled the cheeky grin that Howard was beginning to recognise as a seemingly permanent, and not unenjoyable, part of Sheppard’s persona.

“I sat in a chair.”

Dr McKay just shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Unbelievable.”

Howard took a moment, now that his mind had finally stopped reeling uncontrollably, to appreciate the bridge of the spaceship that he had materialised on to. This was real. He was actually standing here, being offered a job in another galaxy, on a whole other planet; well fuck you Sheldon Cooper, turns out Howard J. Wolowitz could achieve a hell of a lot.

Howard felt Colonel Sheppard walk up behind him and clap him on the shoulder. It hurt more than Howard cared to admit, and although a wince crossed his features, he really couldn’t bring himself to care. He was going to another fucking galaxy.

“It can get pretty tough out there”, the colonel said, rocking on the balls of his feet, “You’re stuck in another galaxy, you can’t tell anyone what you’re doing, and there’s minimal contact with family…”

Howard’s head whipped round to the colonel in record pace, “Where do I sign?”

The colonel’s eyebrows raised skeptically, “I mean it, it can get pretty hairy out there, feel free to take some time to think it over.”

“Hey, I help shave the back of my over-weight, middle-aged mother on a regular basis, I know how to deal with hairy situations.”

Surprisingly, Howard heard Dr McKay chuckle with genuine amusement behind him. It seemed Resting Bitch-Face did in fact have a soul behind his crusty and off-putting exterior. Maybe he wouldn’t be so bad to work with after all. Indeed, looking around Howard found himself growing less and less terrified, and more nervously excited toward the prospect of intergalactic travel. He could do this, he would do this. However, looking around the ship’s bridge at the various crew members walking around, Howard spotted one serious problem.

“Just one more question”, He said, turning to Colonel Sheppard, a strange look of deep contemplation and urgency gracing Howard’s already odd-looking features, “Does the uniform come with a turtleneck?”


End file.
